After the Game
by Lexie Jayne
Summary: After Lara Croft, Tomb Raider: The Movie, Lara finds another mission, just as dangerous as the last...
1. Decisions

Chapter One: Good Morning, Lara  
  
Lara sat the table, with Bryce, as Hillary served breakfast.   
  
"Pancakes," Bryce's eyes widened as he poured half the jug of maple syrup over them. Hilly bought his serve in and sat next to Lara.  
  
"Is everything okay, dear?" he asked.  
  
"Oh, I've got a press conference/interview today at 11:30, then Lord and Lady Hawkins want me to go over there for afternoon tea," Lara was on the verge of whining.   
  
"Then, get it over and done with," Hilly handed Lara a cup of tea.  
  
"Alex West is going to be there," Bryce said, nodding in Lara's direction. "She doen't want to see him."  
  
"After the whole deal with the Illuminati, I've decided a new boyfriend is needed," Lara said, reaching for the strawberry jam and spilling her tea. "Bugger."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Lara roared into London on her motorbike, at 11:40. Lara's philosophy was, the later, the better. She would draw all the attention to herself, away from that greedy boy, Alex West.  
  
Parking the bike, Lara made her way into The Daily Telegraph were the press conference was being held. In her leather pants and jacket, Lara realised she looked completely out of it. All the reporters were wearing pastel and black business suits; as was Alex West. Lara enjoyed it, as the reporters moved aside to let her through and whispered about her attire.  
  
"...and my biography, Alex West, will be realeased early next week. It will be a detailed account of my life so far and everyone involved in it - including our new arrival, Lady Croft," Alex smiled at her and Lara glared back.  
  
The organizer of the conference, Mr Hill, smiled wanly at Lara. "Lady Croft recently discovered an amulet, from around 1200. It originated in..." Lara tuned out of the rather boring lecture; she'd discover the (useless) necklace and knew the history.  
  
"Lady Croft," one male reporter began. "What have you planned as your next adventure?"  
  
Lara thought about this for a bit. "Well, I'd like to head to Venice - there is a precious sword set there I'd like to find. Other than that, nothing."  
  
  



	2. No Such Thing as a Holiday

  
  
Lara noticed Alex perk up a bit at the mention of the Swords. He'd heard of the Swords, but had believed them to be a myth. *But then,* Lara thought, *Alex believed the All Seeing Eye to be a myth.*  
  
"Lady Croft, can you tell us a bit about these Swords?" someone called.  
  
Lara sighed. "Back, when France was a medieval country, a King ordered Swords made for his soldiers. For his knights, the swords were inlaid with a type of precious gem - ruby, amethyst, diamond, emerald, sapphire and topaz," Lara nodded, ticking off the gems with her fingers.  
  
Finally, after listen to Alex West boast about himself for another 47 minutes and 39 seconds, the conference ended and Lara was free to go.  
  
Lara walked briskly through the halls of the offices, planning to get the hell out of dodge as fast as she could.  
  
But Alex West managed to cut off her escape route. "C'mon, Lara. What was all that about. I thought we were friends now?"  
  
Lara rolled her eyes. "It doesn't matter about now; reality is that you signed up with the bad guys and you stole my prayer wheels."  
  
"Lara, not those same damned prayer wheels," Alex threw up his hands. "They didn't even sell for that much!"  
  
"It's not the money, Alex, and you know it," Lara nodded at him and pushed past him.   
  
"C'mon, Lars. One more chance," he pleaded, at the top of the stairs. "Third time lucky."  
  
Lara sighed. "Fine. Third time better be lucky or you'll wish you'd never seen me or those bloody prayer wheels."  
  
Alex held up his hands in mock protest, Lara just raised her eyebrows and left.  
  
  



	3. Only the Past and the Present

*~*~*~*~*~*  
Lara sat at her desk, filling out forms and paying bills. Of all the things she could've done this afternoon, bill paying was the most boring.  
  
The Hawkins' had sort of pressured Lara into having them for dinner tomorrow night, so Hilly was preparing some samples to test feed Bryce and Lara for dinner. Bryce was looking up some information on the Swords she was planning to find.  
  
Lara placed the last envelope in her 'out' tray and stood up. A large crate had come for her that day and she needed to free up space in the attic. It was cluttered enough.  
  
"Lara? Have you finished paying bills?" Hilly stepped out of the kitchen.  
  
Lara nodded. "I'mgoing to unpack that crate that arrived today - the attic is full up."  
  
Hillary nodded. "I'll send Bryce when dinner is served."  
  
Lara pocketed a packet of matches and went up to the attic in the West Tower. She opened the door and was suddenly amazed at the amount of *stuff* crammed into the room.  
  
Lara rarely came up to the attic - she was a busy girl and didn't really have time to fiddle around with old bits and pieces. Hillary had told her there was a small fortune of stuff up here and had insisted she sort it out - especially since she had received some more stuff that day.  
  
Striking a match and lighting a lantern (the electricity had never worked in this tower) and she opened her new crate. Five paintings she had recently aquired and an old Italian jewelry box. She was selling all except the box.  
  
*The crate would be useful to store the things in those old boxes,* Lara thought. The old cardboard boxes in question held her old school things, old toys, photo albums and her mother's belongings. The tower had had leaks the previous winter and most of the boxes were crumbling and almost tuck to the floor. The labels had been written in her father's purple inked fountain pen, her absolute favourite pen. It was in her office drawn, snug in a silver case. But the ink had smeared and left marks over the cardboard, floor and walls.  
  
*Better to start with the oldest stuff - it's been up here here the longest,* Lara thought, pulling out her pocket knife and ripping into it. The tape holding the box together crumbled away and Lara was left looking at old dresses.  
  
Shaking one out, Lara realized it was her mother's wedding dress; it was all white lace, off the shoulder with long sleeves. It deeply reminded Lara of a body bag. Peering into the box, she found a photo album and a choker - black, set with three fake crystals.  
  
Folding the old dress back into the box, Lara opened the album. The first photo showed her mother and father on their wedding day. A shiny black car stood nearby, decorated with white roses and satin ribbons. Her mother's dark brown hair was curled and piled up on her head. Her father was smiling and waving at the camera.  
  
Underneath it was written, 'Gabriella Winters, born on the 5th Day of June, 1948. Married on 19th Day of March, 1973. I am officially Lady Gabriella Croft.'  
  
Lara pulled the lantern closer and had a quick flip through it. Recipes, poems, newspaper cuttings and photos were all stuck in the book. *Sort of like a diary,* Lara thought. She had kept a diary once - for an entire week, when she was 19. Now, she had a journal of her expeditions.  
  
'I have a perfectly good diary, my grandmother bought it for me as a wedding gift. Mum said she was eccentric in her ways and mad to give me a diary. A lovely necklace or money, but not a notepad. So my album will tell the stories behind the pictures. Love, 'Ella.'  
  
Lara gazed at the photo. Her mother, looking very similar to herself, sitting on the front bench of Croft Manor. Wearing a white sundress, with her hair out, she looked very happy. But very thin.  
  
The next page was dated '7th Day of November, 1974,' - Lara's birthday. No pictures, just a newspaper clipping and Lara's mother's note.  
  
'My baby Lara has been born. She's beautiful. Mother cannot come to the hospital - more in my diary.'  
  
Lara flipped through the next pages - recipes, poems and photos of her Aunty Florance, a person Lara had never met.  
  
Then, Lara realized that the album was almost over - only five more pages were filled.  
  
'Lara turns 3 to day. Mr Wilson is developing the photographs as we speak - write.'  
  
'Lara has been sent to stay with my mother - I am too ill to care for her.'  
  
'Lara's 4th birthday to-day.'  
  
That was it. It ended there. None of the photos mentioned on her third birthday were there. No last message for her daughter. Lara felt an over whelming sense of sadness over take her. She had never really mourned her mother's passing; she had never known 'Gabriella Croft,' only her beloved father.  
  
Lara put the album on the dresser and moved to another cardboard box. Just as faded as the last, Lara ripped into it. Clothes and a few battered novels. The next box contained Lara's old school books and summer clothes. Then Lara stopped. Why all of a sudden was her mother so important? Lara was 26, almost 27, and her mother had barely ever counted in her life after her father died.  
  
Her mother's family were not there. She had never known Aunt Florance or her Grandmother Danielle. From what she had been told by Mr Wilson, 'Flora' and 'Danielle' were only interested in money. Both were currently living in France, where the lifestyle suited them.  
  
"Lara!" Bryce. Calling her for dinner. Lara sat the album on an ancient dresser, with only three and a half legs. Blowing out the lantern, Lara went down to dinner.  
  
Hillary had managed to whip up a homemade pizza, some sort of quiche, salmon with brie and curry on little rice crackers.  
  
"This is bee-oo-ti-ful!" Bryce cried, filling his plate up with the 'samples'. "Is this what you'll be serving tomorrow night?"  
  
"Yes. But I have brought out some of my chocolate and raspberry ice cream, because Lara, you seem depressed," Hilly raised his eyebrows.  
  
"I was 'cleaning out the attic and I found my mother's album," Lara said. "Do you know where her diary is? She kept refering to it."  
  
Hillary passed Bryce the pizza. "Lady Gabriella's diaries were boxed up and burnt the day before your father left for his last expedition,"he said solomnly. "I understand that he wrote a letter explaining why, but I've never seen hide nor hair of it, Lara."  
  
Lara licked the brie off her fingers. "Why? Did my mother know something special?"  
  
Hillary looked uncomfortable. "You do know about how she died?"  
  
Lara shrugged. "Sickness. I honestly don't remember her. Daddy always told me that it was because I stayed with Aunt Liate a lot when Gabrielle was dying. Cancer, I expect."  
  
Lara knew if herfatherhad heard her refer to her mother as Gabriella, it would have broken his heart.   
  
"That's right, Lara. She died just after your fourth birthday. She was living in a hospital by then and you didn't know her. She was hospitalized when you were three," Hillary sipped his tea.  
  
"Excuse me!" Bryce raised his hand. "How do you know all this? You wouldn't have been working here."  
  
Lara laughed. "Hilly's father worked for my father. And Hilly did garden work back then."  
  
Lara heard the doorbell chime. Hilly stood up and went to get it.  
  
"Hey Lara," Bryce turned to her. "You now how your father made a secret letter for you about the All Seeing Eye - maybe your mother's diaries are hidden like that!"  
  
Before Lara could reply, Hilly walked in and handed Lara a bouquet of yellow roses. Opening the card, she frowned.  
  
'To Lara, Love Alex.'  
  
"Bastard," Lara spat, dumping the flowers in a vase. She tore the card in two and tossed it into the heater.  
  
"Alex?" Bryce asked, his mouth full of curry.  
  
"Mmm. Hillary, why did Daddy burn her diaries?" Lara asked.   
  
"No reasons were given, Lara. He just told Mr Wilson to fetch Gabriella's diaries and destory them. He never read them. Mr Wilson told me all this, before he retired to Boothby's."  
  
Lara tapped her cheek. Why had her father destroyed her direct link to her mother? He used to always tell her how much he wished Lara could remember her.  
  
"My mother didn't know of the Illuminati... but why?" Lara sighed. "I'm going to have a bath, Hilly. I'll have dessert later."  



	4. Arrangments

  
Lara slept restlessly that night, barely sleeping, and when she did sleep she had twisted nightmarish dreams.  
  
(Dream Sequence)  
"...I wish you could remember her," Lord Croft said sadly, to Lara's younger, dream self. Young Lara and Lord Croft were sitting in his office.  
  
"One day, it will all come back to me, Daddy," Young Lara smiled. "You say that when I get older, I'll remember more things."  
  
Lord Croft looked at Lara, right in her eyes. Young Lara tugged on his sleeve.  
  
"You said you'd remember her when you were older. You haven't, have you," his voice was accusing. "You don't know anything about her... But remember, whatever you want to find, you will find."  
  
Lara jerked awake, her heart pounding. Her father had never spoken so sharply to her, except for the time she almost lit a fire in the library.  
  
The phone interrupted her. *Who could be calling at this hour?* Lara thought, still groggy from sleep.  
  
"Croft."  
  
"Shugrave."  
  
"Saw your conference. Thought you may need quick transport. Tookie is in London and will be happy to take you," Shugrave paused. "I'd do it, but I'm in Vegas."  
  
"No, you're not," Lara repressed a yawn.  
  
"No, I'm not. But we've now been on the telephone for 19 seconds and I need to go."  
  
Lara listened to the dial tone for a second and placed the phone back. *How the hell had Shugrave known about the conference?*  
  
Lara pushed that thought from her mind and rolled over. Now she was more alert, she thought about her dream. Her dream-father had been so sharp with her because her mind was revealing her fear of him being angry with her for forgetting her mother.  
  
Lara awoke about eight, tense and feeling like she hadn't had a wink of sleep.  
  
Dressing in jeans and a tank top, she went downstairs, where Hillary was serving breakfast.  
  
"Scrambled eggs and Cappuccino, Lara?" Hillary asked cautiously, noticing the slightly dark expression on Lara's face.  
  
"Yes, thank you, Hillary," Lara noticed Bryce was on his laptop. "What are you researching?"  
  
"Those swords you're going to find. It's definitely Rome," Bryce slurped his coffee. "Some old mansion on the outskirts, I'd say."  
  
"Mmm," Lara murmured, testily.  
  
"Lara, a message from Shugrave," Hillary placed her breakfast on the table and handed her the piece of paper.  
  
*L- Rang at 7 am and you were sleeping. I saw the conference of Pay TV. Tookie will phone you today, at noon. -S*  
  
Lara crumpled the paper and began her breakfast. "Hilly, I'll be in my office, researching these swords. Any telephone calls, will you take a message?" Lara didn't bother waiting for Hilly's answer, she just went to her office.  
  
She set up her laptop and ran a scan on Rome. Her father had a small house there, a townhouse that she had redecorated two years ago. She needed her neighbor, Maria Andretti to air the place and arrange for some food.  
  
"Lara?" Hillary stepped into her study. "Boothby's auction house are on the telephone. Shall I take a message? Christie's have already called."  
  
Lara tapped her chin. "If Boothby's are wondering whom I'll hire to sell the swords, tell them Boothby's are my first choice."  
  
Hillary nodded. "Tea, Lara?" he asked, at the doorway.  
  
Lara smiled gratefully. "If it's not too much trouble, Hilly."  
  
So. Where would the swords be hidden? No intelligant person would hide a fotune in weaponry in the same place; they'd hide them seperately, in obvious places. But then, Lara decided. They could expect people to think like this and hide them in a bunch in a horrible, complicated place. Bugger.  
  
Lara ran a search on all the mansions on the outskirts of Rome - twelve. Five were abandon, the rest were hostels and bed and breakfasts.  
  
She ran searchs on all the past inhabitants and the swords and local criminals. Everything she could think of.  
  
"Lara," Bryce stood at the door of her office. "Hillary sent me to tell you to go get ready; the Hawkins' are going to be here in two hours."  
  
Lara rubbed her eyes and glanced at the clock. It was 3:30! Her mind full of four letter words, Lara picked up the phone and speed dialed Tookie.  
  
"Tookie?...Mmm, it's Croft. I need a motor bike and a car transported to Rome tomorrow. And three people....Yes, I know it's short notice.... Tomorrow, Heathrow airport...I've got to go. Okay, pick me up here at noon. Bye, thanks, Tookie."  
  
Lara stood up and began tidying up her desk. She noticed a half empty cup of tea and half of a sandwich sitting on a tray. Lara didn't remember Hillary bringing her lunch - but she had been researching - hacking - for hours.  
  
Hillary was setting the table, looking... a very old word flitted into Lara's mind, which suited Hillary at that moment. Hillary was vexed.  
  
"Bryce went to pay the florist, but that was fifteen minutes ago," Hillary sounded tense. "He said something about your Porsche."  
  
Lara nodded, a faint smirk on her face. The local florist, Lucy, was the object of Bryce's rather bumbling affections. It would've been cute if Bryce wasn't a grown man.  
  
Lara strode outside, to see Lucy gazing at Bryce, who was chatting avidly on about *Lara's* Porsche.  
  
"Bryce," Lara smiled briefly.   
  
"Lara," Bryce looked at her nervously, and quickly handed Lucy the money and took the flowers. Wordlessly, he took the arrangments inside, leaving Lucy and Lara outside.  
  
Lara smiled at Lucy one last time and followed Bryce inside.  
  



End file.
